... But Home is Nowhere

[1/1]Day 1,585. Day 1,586. Day 1,587.

All crossed out with the dull edge of my nearly worn-out pen. After over four years in this facility, one would think I would lose track of the time. Actually, time is my most valuable asset. I was mistakenly placed in this Hell years ago, on a dreary night of November. I'll never forget it. My birthday was the following week. How could I? Guy came up to me, said I looked funny. Started getting in my face and making derogative comments about my orientation. Yeah, sounds simple enough, huh? Well, that wasn't where it ended. Far from that, actually. Turns out this guy kept close track of nearly every movement I would make; progressively gaining insight to find the perfect moment to attack. I honestly don't even know why this guy became so obsessed with me. To this day it seems to me he was more in love with me than out to get me because of the 'way I looked.' So anyway, long story short, on that 15th of November, 2000, you could say I basically combusted. I remember it all very clearly. I walked out of the ceramics store I owned, all too aware he would be waiting for me outside.

"Never thought you'd get out of there, pretty boy. Got a kind of haven going on in there, don't you?" he said and blew a cloud of smoke in my face.

I stood, staring at him from head to toe. His buzzed head, with its prickles of hair just fighting to grow back. The protruding bump on the back of his head that nearly made me wince from how thin he looked to me. I proceeded to look down at his unkempt appearance, absorbing his skimpy Sex Pistols shirt and his dark blue plaid pants, concluded by a pair of red boots that were obviously two sizes bigger than what they should have been.

"Checking me out now, aren't you?" he growled and charged towards me, cornering me against a light post.

"Can you please remove yourself from me?" I said, grimacing from the horrible stench of marijuana that came from his breath.

"Alright, I'll get away from you," he lowly said and took a few steps back.

"Thank you," I muttered and walked towards the parking lot, glad I hadn't been forced to use anything against him.

But that wasn't the end of it. I soon heard the repetitive tapping of feet against the cement descend from behind me. Before I could fully process it, he had me in a tight headlock and held a blade so close to my face, I could smell the rusted, metallic fragrance of it. If you could call that a fragrance.

"I'm gonna skin those rainbow tattoos right off you," he said against the side of my neck.

At that point, I was at the core of my patience. I struggled to breathe, taking short staggered breaths of air while shuffling my feet in no particular direction. Within seconds the tables had turned and I now had control of the situation. I had been carrying a needle tool from my ceramics store at all times since being aware I was being stalked. I doubted it would be of much use to me but I carried it anyway. As it turned out, that needle tool ended up working wonders for me. I had jabbed it right through the bastard's throat, causing him to let go of me instantly.

"You fucker. I'm so gonna--"

"Gonna, what?!" I yelled in response and charged at him, snatching his tacky knife and jamming it repetitively everywhere I could.

Must have been at least thirty stabs. What can I say, I basically lost it. It's not like I even wanted to murder him, it just happened. And before any remorse could kick in, I was in the barred back seat of a police car, my cuffed hands specked with black cherry blood. And I thought the bystander effect applied in most cases. Well not in mine. I was charged with voluntary manslaughter and sentenced to twenty years in prison, due mostly to the gruesome nature of my crime. So I wasn't really mistakenly put in prison. I did kill a guy. But, I still hold true to the fact I acted through self-defense. I mean, it was either me or the guy. One of us was going to die, regardless. So that's how I came to land here, in the Maximum Security Facility of Sam. Get it, Son of Sam? As if the crime I had committed were really that morbid. Here, I'm surrounded by the worst kinds of people imaginable. Everywhere I turn, there's a child predator looming around the halls (shackled, of course) , men who committed various crimes of passion, rapists, drug dealers, just the works. I stay away from them as much as I can afford to and limit myself to having only the necessary amount of contact. Not like I can avoid them in the showers or cafeteria. Lovely, huh? However, I have managed to meet some people I actually consider decent. Surprise, surprise.

They are three lovely men and go by the names of Hunter, Adam, and Jade. And I thought I would never come across decent people in this shithole. Although none of them have told me the reasons behind being placed here, I have still been able to confidently trust them. Whatever it is they did in the past, I'm sure regret has kicked in, considering their generous actions. They are good people and I have been able to see how genuine they are through the years. I have no doubt that they are worth my while. We stick together when we can and all have each others' backs. In a place where nothing is certain and there always seems to be some fucker on your case, it's good to have people at your side. You know, when the going gets rough. Or so they say. We each loathe being in this place and the thought of withstanding decades more here is not the least bit appealing. Every time I get up early in the mornings, the first thing I have come to inevitably do, is look at the crumpled calendar on my wall and cross out another day. I'm lucky enough to actually have a yearly calendar brought to my cell, a privilege I cannot be without. I wonder about the time and days too much to be without one. As if crossing out the days would somehow speed time up. I guess I use the calendar to feel like I delete the days as they go by. Simply because I have no desire to remember any day spent here. The harsh treatment received from security, the ice cold showers, the freeze-dried food. Not to mention the mounds of rats peering from every crevice imaginable. Especially the days, noscratch that; months of solitary confinement and below freezing water hose-downs. All this has only fueled my desire to leave this torturous place. So, that's why with the help of my boys, I've come up with a plan. A plan to rid ourselves from this place and never shoot one abhorrent look back.

"Psst, psssst!" I distantly heard.

"Are you awake?"

"Mhmm, keep looking around. And tell me when you see a guard. I'm almost finished with this," I muttered as I applied more of the rubber I had melted from an old pair of boots on the pipe.

Over the last few days, we had been working on painting these sink pipes with melted rubber, in hopes that they would end up simulating a bar of our cell. The boys had already finished theirs and I was now applying the finishing touches to mine.

"Dave, guard's circulating. You hear me?" Hunter hissed under breath.

"Yeah, okay," I muttered and blew my candle out, making sure to hide the pipe behind my stack of previous calendars.

I slid back in my bunk as quietly as I could manage, holding my breath as I placed the starchy cover over me. The echo of boots against cement now became more pronounced. I shut my eyes and turned on my side.

"Smells weird around here. Got anything funky going on here, Marchand?" the guard said and tapped my bars with his club.

"Mm? What was that?" I murmured and squinted up at him.

"Smells like smoke. You been puffing that magic dragon around here lately?"

"Come on, you know I'm straight edge. Must I repeat that time and time again?" I slurred.

"Hm, whatever. Go back to sleep, Havok," he muttered and began whistling as he walked away, peering into other cells.

"Shit," Hunter whispered and let out a stifled chuckle.

"Close call," Adam said from the other cell next to mine.

"Alright, so tomorrow's the big day. Have you started sawing through your bars?" I questioned and peeked towards Hunter's cell.

"Yeah. I'm past half-way. You?"

"Yeah. I'm lucky the guard didn't tap against the particular bar I sawed through," I said, relieved.

"That was so close. So what's the plan for tomorrow?" Adam whispered.

"Okay, at 16:00, you know, shower time, we'll all come up with excuses not to go. Stomach ache, fever, chills, whatever you can come up with. Just don't overdo it. They'll obviously let us stay in our cells. That's when we take advantage of the timing and push the bar out. We replace it with the sink ones we painted and open the sewer lid near the end of the hall. We get under it and keep going until we make it out. Then there's that damn fence, and then the water. We climb the fence and swim. Just keep swimming, got it?"

"Okay, understood. So tomorrow it is. Are you scared?" I heard Jade whisper in the distance.

"Hell yeah, but there's nothing else I'd rather do. I'm out of this abominable place. Did the needle tool saw work well for the bars?"

"Yeah, sawed right through. You're a genius, man," Adam lowly chuckled, his voice nasally even as a whisper.

"Good. Night, guys," I said and closed my eyes.

"Holy shit, it fits perfectly," I cockily said as I stood back and looked at the bar in its place.

"Yeah, it does. Now let's go before a guard shows up," Jade said and tugged me by the arm.

We swiftly paced through the desolate hall. As soon as we came close to the sewer, Adam knelt down and slid the lid over. Once we were all inside, I carefully slid the lid back in place.

"Damn, it's filthy down here," Hunter complained through the torrent of sewage.

As bad as it truly was, the only thought that consumed me, was that of freedom. If I withstood all the years wasted and all the mistreatments, I could surely take some dirty water and rats; nothing new to any of us. Of course it seemed endless, but before we realized it, we had come across another sewer lid. Jade impatiently shoved it open and we excitedly climbed out. We couldn't contain ourselves. It was like seeing the light for the very first time.

"We did it, we did it!" Adam cheered and hugged all of us.

"Hold on, Adam. We're still not completely out of here. Not just yet," I chuckled as I looked towards the fence.

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's climb the damn thing!" Hunter yelled and ran towards the fence.

We all impulsively followed him and began wildly climbing, our legs dangling against the fence, forgetting how secretive we had set out to be as absconders. We had reached the very top of the fence when suddenly, multiple shots were fired in the distance.